I drew you with some tiny traces on the ground
With a little stick on my hand
Your round eyes
The arch of your brows
The shape of your lips
The curve of your smile
To draw your shapely cheeks if I could
Then I realized I couldn't
With only balls and sticks I knew
Even your hair stood like straws on a field
I'm sorry it wasn't even right
Yet, I tried still
One day on the canvas in my room
I hope to draw
The soul in your eyes
The merry-go-ride of your emotions
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